Animosity
by ladydelirium
Summary: [oneshot] Crossover with XMen. Emma Frost meets Spike in an alley outside the Bronze. She's not impressed. Spike's from early season four. Emma's from early Morrison's New XMen era. Written for an lj crossover community challenge.


**Animosity**

Fandoms: X-Men and Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Prompt: Emma Frost/Spike – White Dress

Emma Frost glanced around the room with obvious distaste. The last place she wanted to be spending her Saturday night was in a disgusting excuse for a night club in a town so small it may as well not exist as far as she was concerned. But here she was, suffering for the good of the school. No one had better be doubting her loyalty after this experience, Emma thought with a slight smirk, daring a sip of her vodka and tonic. A little weak. It could be worse, but she'd definitely had much better.

She smoothed out the fabric of her dress, white silk of course. The skirt falling to mid thigh, neck line leaving little to the imagination, but why should it? Emma paid a lot of money for this body, she had every right to show it off. Besides, she was rather well covered compared to her usual attire. She didn't want to stand out too much. Though it seemed that she needn't have bothered though, most of the girls in this place were showing off as much as her, a good deal of them revealing more. At least Emma had the class to look elegant, these girls looked like they should be on stage pole dancing and calling themselves 'Candy'.

Emma slipped off the bar stool, surreptitiously scanning the mass of teenagers on the dance floor for any sign of the young man she'd come to find. He was a runaway and having just begun to manifest his mutation it was imperative that she take him back to the Institute with her before he inadvertently got himself in trouble. And this town had a reputation for being a rather unsavory place. Especially if one is a scared teenager with no place to go at night. After asking around Emma had been informed that a boy matching his description had been seen here a few times and that this dive was _the_ place to be on a Saturday night. These poor children really didn't have a chance if _this_ was what they actually considered cool.

Still no sign of him. Emma telepathically scanned the minds of those around her, looking for a hint that any of them might have seen the young mutant but to no avail. Irritated, she stalked back to the bar, stopping the unwanted advances of several men with a single withering look. Honestly who did they think they were? Approaching Emma as though they thought they stood a chance with her. She ordered another drink and positioned herself on a stool with as much dignity as possible, haughty expression on her face set to drive away any one under the misconception that she might want some company.

"Who does that bitch think she is?" Emma's attempt at solitude was ruined when a man slumped onto the stool beside her muttering angrily to himself. She looked him up and down: bleached hair, clad in black leather. Attractive in a wannabe-rebel-stuck- in-the-past sort of way. The kind of guy she'd have taken home as a teenager for the sole purpose of annoying her father. The muttering continued, every now and then emphasized by a fist being slammed down on the bar.

Emma turned her eyes back to the dance floor, suppressing a sigh. The kid obviously wasn't here. Her mind went in search of Scott, who was checking out various parks and other spots in the town for the boy.

_Scott, any luck yet, darling? _

_Emma? I was just about to call you. I found him. _ Scott was better at this sort of communication than most non-telepaths. He must be used to it being married to Jean. Emma smiled rather unkindly at that thought. He must be used to a hell of a lot worse things being married to Jean Grey, Little Miss Perfect also know as Eater Of Worlds.

_Thank God, I shudder even thinking about spending any longer than necessary in this place. _She felt a hint of amusement from him at that.

_Meet us back at the jet_

_I'll be there momentarily, dear._

She picked up her purse with a sigh of relief and headed for the exit. The crowd parting for her as she walked through the groups of teens, the girls glaring at her and making snide remarks about her outfit – as if they could talk, the boys looking at her appreciatively, most of them thinking about trying to cop a feel until her icy glare fell on them. Stepping outside she took a breathe of the warm night air, not particularly pleasant but after two hours of breathing in the scent of sweat, beer and lust it was quite a relief. She made her way into the alley that stood between her and getting the hell of this town.

Emma stepped over a pile of what she assumed was garbage, disgust written on her features. Her way was lit only by the large neon sign over the club proclaiming that this was the 'Bronze'. God, even the name was tacky. She heard footsteps behind her, quickly getting closer, along with the acrid stench of tobacco smoke. The man who'd been sitting next to her at the bar was suddenly walking beside her.

"Evening, love." He had a strong British accent, low class of course. Emma treated him to the same haughty Ice Queen look she'd been giving men all night and kept walking.

"Now that isn't nice, pet." He said as he grabbed her arm, pulling her into a door way. "Shouldn't ignore a guy when he talks to you."

"_I see no problem with it if one doesn't wish to talk to him." She regarded him cooly. Emma didn't feel threatened, because honestly now, as if any man was a match for Emma Grace Frost and after this night she was definitely in the mood to take her frustration out on someone. Besides, he was going to leave her no choice._

"Well then maybe we won't talk." He leered at her and she rolled her eyes.

"And what do you propose we do instead?" Emma replied innocently.

"I'm sure we can think of something." His hand ran up her thigh, fist curling into the hem of her dress, his hand looking almost as pale as the silk in the dim light. His lips were barely an inch from her neck, his grip on her arm had loosened slightly. Obliviously he thought she was helpless. Emma laughed at just how wrong he was.

"Darling, if you value your manhood I suggest you leave right now." Couldn't say she didn't warn him. His expression darkened, his fingers digging into her hard.

"I don't think you're in any position to be telling me what to do, pet." His face suddenly change grotesquely. Were those fangs?

"Not so uppity now are you?" He said, smirking at the apparent shock on her face. "That's right little girl, the Big Bad's got your number." He leaned closer, and murmured in to her ear "And after the night I've had I'm looking to bite a blond."

Emma laughed again, composure back as though she never lost it.

"I bet you say that to terrify all the girls." He looked surprised at her lack of fear. "Tell me, darling, what are those fangs compensating for?" He snarled, fangs moving closer to her neck.

"Bite this." She said with a smirk as she shifted her form, her body becoming diamond.

"Bloody hell!" He stumbled back from her. "You could have told me you're a demon."

"A demon? Darling, I am no such thing." She said, grabbing him and roughly reversing their positions.

"Whatever you are, love, I can't say I'm not intrigued." He grinned suggestively. "Let's see what you've got."

"What I've got is very little patience and a plane to catch." She replied in her best no nonsense tone. "Follow me again and I'll make it so you start vomiting uncontrollably every time you see yourself naked."

"What makes you think your little mind tricks work on the undead, pet?"

"What makes you think they won't? But if you're willing to risk it by all means, follow me." She turned her back to him and began walking away.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" He called after her, voice full of irritation and perhaps a little desire.

"You can call me The White Queen, 'Big Bad'" She said, voice faintly mocking.

"I'll be seeing you around, Your Majesty." She ignored the implied threat.

"I very much doubt it, dear. Not that it hasn't been a pleasure."

The diamond shifted back to soft flesh as she stepped out of the alley, not even wanting to think about what might be stuck to the bottom of her boots. She smirked slightly as she noted that she was alone. It was nice to know that even the undead didn't mess with Emma Frost but all the same she just wanted to get out of this sorry excuse for a town. She had no desire to stay any longer in a place where she was come onto by vampires (and people were calling mutants abominations these days?), accused of being a demon of all things and worst of all forced to spend hours in that tacky, tasteless little club. This kid had better be worth the trouble.


End file.
